“Well, that’s the conclusion most of us come to,” Jon admitted with a sheepish grin. “It’s almost as if the Air Force designs the security this way to make us work harder.”

“It’s not funny, Dr. Masters.”

“No one is forcing her to do this, Cheryl. She’s doing it all on her own.” He looked at her carefully. “You really are worried, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am.”

“Are you telling me that Kelsey’s never worked like this before? This is the first time she’s been so ...”

“Obsessed? Single-minded? Manic?” Cheryl exploded. “That’s what I’m saying, Dr. Masters. Sure, she’s worked hard before—she works hard on everything she’s ever done. But never like this. I’m really worried about her.”

“I don’t have kids, Cheryl, so I’m no expert,” Jon said, “but if I didn’t know better, I’d say Kelsey is ...”

“What?”

“Having fun,” Jon said. When Cheryl rolled her eyes in disbelief, Jon went on, “No, really. Putting together inertial confinement chambers and laser generators is like ... like putting together a dollhouse or a Lego castle is to most kids.”

“Jon, you’re wrong. Completely, absolutely wrong.” But even as she said the words, Jon could see that she really didn’t believe they were true. “I wish this never happened. I wish Kelsey was just a normal, everyday kid.”

“Cheryl, she is just an everyday normal kid—but with an incredible gift,” Jon said. “I think you see the security and the weapons and the horror and destruction all this could cause, and you wonder and worry about how this will affect your daughter.”

“Of course I’m worried!”

“But have you looked at your daughter lately ... I mean, stepped back and really looked at her?” Jon asked. “I mean, I’ve never had kids, but I’m a kid at heart. And I’ve seen supersmart kids before. Some of them are really full of themselves. They’ll talk about the offers they get from universities and big companies and consultants to work for them; they’ll talk about their stock portfolios and patents and the money they’re making.”

He paused, staring out into space as if reliving some scene in his mind’s eye. “I know about those kids—because I was one. I am probably still one.” He chuckled. “Man, I used to love stuffing one down some four-star general’s shirt. He thought he knew everything—I couldn’t wait to blow him away. Every tactic, every procedure, every concept he had, I had a response or an alternative that he never thought about. I used to cream the big corporate CEOs daily. They wouldn’t give me the time of day— until I showed them a design for something they absolutely had to have. I was a third of their age and had bank accounts and portfolios bigger than theirs. I... was ... the greatest.”